by Linda Ford
Dusty perked up his ears at the sound.
Carly gave him a confused look. When he didn’t stop, she rode closer. “What’s so funny?”
He stopped laughing but kept smiling. “You’re father fancies himself a matchmaker. I’m surprised he didn’t send someone along to keep an eye on us.”
She harrumphed. “I suppose he thought if we were alone, we’d do what he considers the right thing.”
“Maybe we should tell him about our agreement.” He had no doubt how Father Morrison would react to the information. The man’s voice echoed through his head. Ack. Now wasn’t that a foolish thing to agree to? So why don’t we all just forget about it? You and Carly are married. Time ye acted like it.
Carly shook her head. “He’d say we aren’t married at all and then what would happen to the ranch?” She let that soak in. “And a home for Jill? She’s really settling in, don’t you think?”
“Aye, and I believe you’ve learned a few tricks from your father to bring Jill into the discussion.”
Carly grinned. “Aye, and maybe I have. But seriously, I don’t see we have any choice but to honor our agreement.”
He slouched in his saddle. Why had he even allowed the thought to take root that she might be willing to reconsider that agreement? Obviously she wasn’t.
They rode on, silence again their companion.
As the sun reached its zenith, he began to look about, hoping to see a place where he could suggest they rest the horses for a bit.
“There’s a place over there where we can stop.” It was as if she read his mind. And the idea did nothing to make him forget how much he wanted to change their agreement.
They turned aside to a grove of trees along a little stream and let the horses rest, eat and drink. She pulled biscuits and cookies from her saddlebag and shared them with him. They sank to the cool grass to eat.
“Do you like this country?” she asked.
“It’s good cow country.”
“You said that before.”
“Yup.” Why did he get the feeling she wanted something more than his opinion about the land?
“So you can see yourself happily settled here?” She paid a whole lot more attention to the biscuit she held than it required.
He sat up. So that was her concern. “I want a home for Jill. She’s happy here. But more than that, I said I would stay. And I keep my word.” Even when it was hard.
Carly nodded. “Just checking to see if anything has changed.” She lifted her head then and her brown eyes were dark and unreadable. Yet he sensed more questions.
“Has anything changed for you?” Sawyer asked.
“I’m committed to our agreement.” Her look went on and on, searching, probing.
It was not the answer he’d hoped for. Yet it was the one he expected. He finished his lunch, went for the horses and they resumed their journey.
They rode hard all afternoon. As the shadows lengthened, he asked, “How much farther?”
She pulled up and seemed to consider the question. Finally she spoke. “If we rode hard until dark, we could get there but I’m not sure what we’d find.”
He had no idea what she meant. “Your father wouldn’t send you into a dangerous situation.”
She sighed. “We’re supposed to be man and wife. Will they want us to sleep in their guest room?”
He grinned. Quite the quandary for her to consider.
“I think we’ll put up until morning, then pick up the animals and return home.”
Sawyer could not deny that the prospect pleased him very much. A night out under the stars with her. He could foresee all sorts of pleasant moments.
“There’s a good camping spot not too far ahead.” They rode on until she guided them to a quiet stream. Within minutes, he had a fire going. He’d brought cans of food and opened them and set them to heat. Meanwhile, Carly took care of the horses and tossed the bedrolls to the ground.
He eyed their placement. Hers to the left of the fire, his to the right. Anyone coming along would think they weren’t man and wife.
Well, they were. And they weren’t. And they had one, possibly two, more nights on the trail. He allowed himself to think things might change in his favor.
It was almost dark by the time they finished eating but neither of them made a move toward crawling into their bedrolls.
“The stars will soon be out,” Carly said.
He shifted his thoughts back to the night sky. “Do you know the constellations?”
“Just the Big and Little Dipper.”
He jumped to his feet. “Come on over here away from the fire and I will introduce them to you.” He lay on the grassy slope.
Without hesitation, she lay beside him, which set his hope soaring. Maybe this would be the time and place to talk about changing their agreement.
“It’s a perfect night for stargazing.” And the perfect companion but he kept that observation to himself. “There’s The Maiden. She’s carrying a grain of wheat and a staff.” He pointed and edged closer to guide her until she made out the stars forming the constellation. “There’s Leo the Lion.”
“I see it. It makes sense.”
He pointed out several more.
She propped up on one elbow to look at him. “How do you know all this?”
“My pa taught me. Wherever we went, he would go outside and find the stars. He said, ‘The stars don’t change. Just like God.’ He’d take a big sigh. ‘I guess it’s me that’s changed.’”
“What did he mean by that?”
Sawyer could not make out her expression, so hung on to the gentle tone of her voice. “He changed when Ma and Johnny died. Seemed like a stranger to me.” He lay back and looked at the sky. “Except when he took me to look at the stars. Then I felt like he was my father and he cared about me.”
“Thank you for showing them to me.” She lay down against his side. “It’s nice you have this good memory of him.”
“And now I have another good memory of looking at the stars.” He took her hand.
She stiffened. But she didn’t shift away. “Me, too.” Her voice was as soft as the evening breeze.
Neither of them moved. He wished he knew what she thought.
“I could look at the stars all night,” she said. And even though he’d just talked himself into settling for their pretend marriage, he hoped she meant she enjoyed more than the stars. That she enjoyed his company, too.
“We have lots of riding to do tomorrow, so I’m going to bed down.” She rose and went to her bedroll.
“Yeah, me, too.” He crawled into his bedroll and lay staring at the stars as his mind struggled with wishes.
He wished he had the courage to speak of his growing feelings toward her but he couldn’t take the risk that she would say he hadn’t lived up to their agreement, so it was null and void.
Better to accept things the way they were.
Better to harbor a secret fondness than to end up with nothing.
Jill had a home now. That made any risk even more unappealing.
He only wished it was enough for him.
Chapter Fourteen
Carly stared at the night sky. She’d enjoyed seeing the constellations and having them explained to her. Never again would she view the stars the same way…but not because she now knew the names and locations of several groups of stars. No, what she’d remember would be the eager note in Sawyer’s voice, the way his arm brushed hers as he pointed upward, the longing that threatened to choke her as they lay side by side, touching but with an invisible wall between them.
She tried unsuccessfully to push away the thoughts, to dismiss the yearnings. They had a long two days ahead of them. She must sleep. But her thoughts went round and round, churning up more and more frustration.
Across the embers of the fire, she watched Sawyer’s bulk to see if he was as restless as she, but the blankets didn’t move, and she shifted to her side, her back to him. If only he felt as she did, if only they cou
ld mutually decide to change their agreement.
Fatigue overtook her and she slept, wakening to the smell of wood smoke and coffee.
“Good morning,” Sawyer said as she sat up. “Did you sleep well?”
“Reasonably.” She yawned and then sprang from the covers. “You?”
“Fine, thanks. Coffee’s about ready.” He poured two cups as she rolled up her bedding.
She hunkered down by the fire. “We could make breakfast here or, if we hurry, we could eat at the Bar None.” A hot breakfast served at a table appealed.
He drained his coffee cup. “Let’s do it.” Seems he shared her opinion.
The fire was quenched, the horses saddled and the pair on the trail in minutes. Their destination lay over the next hill.
Sawyer laughed when he saw how close it was. “They must have seen the smoke from our campfire.”
“I saw someone ride out to check on us last evening.” The cowboy had recognized her and turned back to the ranch. She led the way to the main house.
Mike Day, owner, stepped from the house. “Howdy, I’ve been expecting you. Come right in.” He turned and called over his shoulder. “Ma, put two more places on the table.”
Carly climbed the steps, Sawyer at her heels, and introduced the two men.
“Your husband, you say?” Mike, short and stocky, built like a barrel, studied Sawyer from head to toe.
Carly waited, secretly smiling. Mike might be short but he exuded power and authority.
To his credit, Sawyer met the man look for look, seemingly unimpressed by the examination.
Mike grinned and gripped Sawyer’s arm. “About time someone took this young lady in hand and you look like you’re capable of the task.”
“Thank you, sir.” Sawyer grinned and leaned closer to Mike as if to share a secret. “I’m afraid it will take two or more of me to rein her in.”
Mike slapped Sawyer on the back and the pair laughed together like coconspirators.
Carly jammed her fists to her hips. “I’m not sure I like that.”
Mike chuckled some more. “Come on in for breakfast.”
Sawyer took Carly’s hand, draped it around his elbow and escorted her through the door, his steps light as if he looked forward to this visit.
In the kitchen, Mike introduced his wife, Ethel. She was as tall and thin as he was short and stocky and she hugged them both, wiping her eyes at the news Carly was married.
“Tell us all about it,” Ethel said in her booming voice.
“Let them eat first.” Mike waved them to the table and Ethel served up fried pork, fried potatoes and a heap of eggs.
“Thanks. This sure beats dry biscuits,” Carly said.
Ethel waved away her comment. “I want all the details. How did you two meet? When did you marry? No one mentioned it to us.” She shot Mike a look. “Don’t tell me you knew and didn’t say.”
The man held up his hands in a protective gesture. “No, darling, I didn’t know.”
Ethel smiled her affection before she turned back to Carly.
“We’ve been married…” Carly pretended to count on her fingers and muse about the answer.
“Seventeen days as of midmorning today,” Sawyer said, his eyes steady and challenging.
“Ah, so still on your honeymoon.” Mike reached across the table for his wife’s hand and they beamed at each other. “That would be why your father sent the pair of you to get the bulls. So you could enjoy some time alone.”
Ethel’s cheeks reddened at the look in Mike’s eyes and Mike chuckled. For a moment, Carly wondered if they remembered there were two others at the table and then Ethel pulled her hand to her lap, cleared her throat and asked, “And how did you meet?”
Carly looked at Sawyer, hoping he would answer.
He gave a grin that made her heart jerk, then turned his attention to their hosts. “I saw her in the restaurant. I could immediately tell she was a determined young woman and a beautiful one as well.”
Carly’s cheeks burned like she stood too close to an open flame.
“I overheard her tell her friend she needed someone to help on the ranch.”
Carly coughed at the way he made it sound so reasonable.
He continued. “I have an orphaned little sister and I saw that we could all benefit from throwing in together.” He shrugged but when he turned toward Carly, she saw a depth of emotion, an openness that she’d never seen before. And something more. She couldn’t believe it was invitation.
Invitation to what?
All she could think was he wanted her to remember their reasons for marrying. It wasn’t as if she could ever forget. Their agreement dogged her every thought.
Ethel sighed. “It sounds so romantic. I so enjoy a good love story.” She sighed again.
Mike chuckled. “She reads those dime-store romances every chance she gets.” His adoring look said he didn’t mind. He leaned closer to Sawyer. “I think it makes her more affectionate so I buy them for her.”
Ethel again blossomed pink and Mike grinned.
Carly envied them their marital happiness. Seventeen days ago, she had thought she didn’t care for any of that—the affection, the touches, the mutual concern—but now she longed for it. Longed for the impossible.
“Father sends his greetings.” Her comment turned the conversation to other things until she knew they must leave. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ve enjoyed the visit but we need to be on our way.”
Sawyer stood. “It’s been nice to meet you.”
Ethel grabbed his hand. “Please come again. I’ve enjoyed this so much.” She sighed. “So romantic.”
Carly resisted an impulse to roll her eyes. Romantic it had not been. Practical and perhaps, in hindsight, a little foolish. She meant their agreement, not their marriage.
Mike accompanied them out to the barn. “These are the bulls your father bought.”
Carly studied the three animals. “They’re magnificent.”
Sawyer pressed to her side. “They’ll throw more of those fleshy calves showing up in the herd.”
“I’m right proud of the critters,” Mike said. “They’re gentle and will drive easy.”
“Gentle? How will they compete in the herd? I sure would hate to see them all busted up.”
“Don’t you worry, darling. They outweigh the longhorns and will soon establish themselves.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Carly and Sawyer mounted up and Mike opened the gate. The massive animals plodded along as directed.
“Mike was right about them being cooperative,” she commented as they hit the trail.
“I like Mike and Ethel,” Sawyer said. “Their love for each other is so open and honest.”
Carly didn’t respond immediately. Dare she be honest and admit she had changed her mind about their marriage agreement? That she wanted…?
She didn’t know what she wanted. Nor did she have the courage to express her thoughts. “Should I have told Ethel that it wasn’t romantic?” Let him say something if he had any of the same feelings as Carly did.
“Why ruin it for her?”
Disappointment sank into her bones. “That’s what I thought.” She reined aside as if to herd the bulls more closely. Not that they needed it.
She kept her distance from Sawyer throughout the morning. If he noticed, he gave no indication.
The bulls had begun to lag when she pointed toward the nearby creek and they turned aside to let them rest awhile.
She and Sawyer dismounted. Ethel had given them a sack full of sandwiches and cookies and they sat beside the cheerful stream to eat their lunch.
Sawyer didn’t immediately begin to eat but studied her. “Have I done something to make you angry?”
“What makes you think I’m angry?”
His eyebrows headed for his hairline. “I don’t know. Maybe the way you stayed off to the side all morning.”
“Not all morning.” Just most of it.
“And t
he scowl that darkened your face.”
“I was squinting against the sun.”
“Did I?”
“I didn’t look but I suppose you squinted, too.”
“That’s not what I meant and I think you know it.”
She did know but intended to pretend otherwise and might have if his gaze hadn’t been so demanding. “I’m not angry. At least not at you.” Any anger she felt was directed at her. Why was she always wanting impossible things? Always? This one time hardly constituted always and yet the word had a ring of truth to them.
“I see. Tell me, what did you do to deserve a morning of anger?” His words were soft, inviting. Almost making her forget she couldn’t tell him.
“Nothing that would make sense to anyone but me.”
He leaned closer. “Try me.”
“Why can’t you let this go?” If he continued, she would blurt out the truth and ruin everything. If she suggested changing their agreement, would he see it as reason to abandon his end of it? It wasn’t a chance she was prepared to take.
“Because I miss your company. I might as well be here by myself for all I’ve seen of you this morning.”
“I was never out of sight.”
“You know that isn’t what I mean.”
She looked to her left. Looked into the distance. Looked at the sandwich in her hand.
His gaze stuck to her like a burr.
She gave a long sigh. “Let’s eat.” But when she would have lifted her sandwich to her mouth, his hand stopped her. His touch threatened every bit of control she had on her thoughts.
“Not until you tell me.”
“I can’t even remember what your question was.” Partly true, as she didn’t know if he wanted to know why she was angry or why she’d been avoiding him.
He held her hands loosely. She could have pulled away without effort but she didn’t even try, even knowing it would make it easier to keep her longings under control.
“Why have you avoided me all morning?” Did she imagine a hint of hurt in his tone?
“Very well. If you must know. I find it difficult to continually deceive my friends.”